


some things you let go in order to live

by queenhawke



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Discussion of Abortion, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abortion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9629570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhawke/pseuds/queenhawke
Summary: “Mum, I'm pregnant.” She just blurted it out. Loudly, interrupting Amy's stream of apologies. It stopped her mother at least. There was a long pause, in which Amy stared at her, her face white.And then River broke down.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Uh hey so, I feel like there should be a bunch of disclaimers on this fic. First of all, this isn't a 'Is Abortion Right Or Not' sort of fic. I'm staunchly pro-choice. Everyone in this fic is pro-choice (spoilers? but u know).  
> Second, this is just my interpretation of these characters. There's a lot of time baby fic out there, and that's... fine? I personally don't agree with those interpretations, so I wanted to give my take on it, but like, y'all keep writing what you like.  
> Title from Various Storms & Saints by Florence + The Machine

_I'm pregnant._

The little pink plus sign on the pregnancy test seemed etched on her eyelids, even after she'd thrown the cursed thing away. It couldn't be. It was a mistake, it had to be. It was faulty. She'd bought it on a whim in Leadworth, while she was visiting her parents. Just to be sure. Yes, she'd been nauseous in the morning, and yes, she hadn't had her period for two months, but... it was impossible. The test was faulty, it had to be. And the one she'd bought after that too. And the one she'd bought in the 42nd century too, even if they were highly advanced and 100% accurate. They were just... they weren't right. Their biology wasn't compatible! It just wasn't! Yes, she was part Time Lord (or 'human plus', more accurately), but that didn't mean they could just... have babies. That's not how it worked. And everything had been fine for _years_. Why would it suddenly change? What was it, just sheer _luck_ that she hadn't conceived in all this time? She couldn't believe that. There had to be something else.

What if it wasn't his? What if it was some sort of... Alien situation. Maybe she'd been abducted and someone or something had planted something inside her, and wiped her memory afterwards. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility. She led a dangerous life, got into loads of dangerous situations with dangerous beings. It wouldn't be too crazy to think that some alien or another had used her as breeding stock.

The thought was almost comforting, and for a second she felt ashamed of herself.

She had to be sure. She had to find out what it was, this thing growing inside of her. And she definitely couldn't tell the Doctor until she knew.

_I'm fucking pregnant._

-

The cold lights and sterile environment of the clinic made her nervous. It stirred up broken memories inside of her, of tests and experiments and other things they'd made her forget. Bright rooms and dark figures weaving in and out, never the same person twice. Or maybe she just kept forgetting their faces.

“It's a perfectly normal fetus, Miss... Smith, was it?”

The voice brought her back to reality, and River hitched herself up on her elbows. “You're sure? There aren't any... abnormalities?”

The doctor examining her shrugged and pointed at the screen displaying the ultrasound. Alongside the grainy feed of the fetus was a string of information. “All life signs are normal, it's developing at normal speed, no sign of any trouble. Its DNA matches yours.”

River raised an eyebrow. “It does?”

“Human plus... something else. If you could tell me what you are, that would be helpful. We don't judge here at the clinic, you know. I've had all sorts of half-bloods in my office. No offense.”

“Sorry, strictly confidential,” River mumbled, peering at the screen, watching the grey little blob writhe around. She felt strangely repulsed by it. This thing was growing inside of her, leeching off her body. It didn't belong there. Nothing belonged there. It was her body.

She tore her eyes away from it. “Could I have a copy of the data?

The doctor started tapping the screen. “Absolutely. If you could give me your ExoCare username I can –”

“A physical copy. No cloud.”

He looked at her, surprised. “Oh! Oh, sure. Um, right...” A few more taps, and he handed her a flash drive. “It's all on there.”

“Good,” she said, pulling the gun from underneath her pillow and aiming it at his head. “Now delete all the data from the clinic's system.”

-

Hours later she sat staring at the little coloured blocks that represented the thing's DNA. It was definitely his. Theirs. They made that little blob together. Somehow. Against all odds. It shouldn't exist and yet there it was.

When she was younger, when she was living on Earth with Amy and Rory, she'd always hear people talking about the miracle of childbirth. How wonderful it was to be pregnant, to be able to put a new life on the world. Whenever there was a birth in the village, people would get all excited and happy. Everyone would huddle around the pregnant woman, asking to touch her belly and saying how beautiful she looked, how she glowed. And then when the baby was born, there would be parties and cake and banners with the name of the newborn and everything would be pink or blue.

Once, one of her teachers had given birth to a baby girl. The whole class was allowed to visit her, and everyone got to hold the baby. Rory was ecstatic, of course. Amy mostly seemed scared that she'd drop her. And then it was her turn. River remembered how surprised she'd been at the weight, so much heavier than the dolls other girls played with. Everyone said how pretty the baby was, but Mels couldn't see it. It just looked like a weird, pink, little creature. It reminded her of those naked mole rats they'd talked about in biology. No one called those beautiful, how was this baby any different? It squirmed and wailed in her arms, helpless and useless. She didn't understand why everyone was so enamoured with it. She said so, and that earned her a scolding.

Rory later suggested that she should have just said the baby was pretty, even if she thought it was ugly. It wasn't like ugly babies didn't exist, he explained, it's just not very polite to say so in front of the mother. Besides, the mere fact that the baby existed at all was amazing. The teacher and her husband had been trying to conceive for a very long time. They'd tried IVF, and that didn't work either. They'd been considering adoption when suddenly, somehow, she fell pregnant. The baby was a miracle.

As was hers, it seemed.

It felt more like a curse.

She should tell him, she knew. She just didn't know how to. How does one walk up to a man who has lost his entire family, who is the last of his entire species, and just go, 'Hi honey, I'm pregnant with your miracle baby but I don't want a child so never mind'? She couldn't do that to him. Their lives were already wrought with pain, why should she add to that? And she could do it, she could lie to him. Or conceal the truth, at least. She did it all the time, even when it hurt. Especially when it hurt. But this wasn't a case of spoilers. This wasn't something she needed to keep secret. This was... this was something else entirely.

“Fuck,” she muttered, rubbing her temples. Her head was too full. All these thoughts and scenarios and lies and fears – it was all too much. She felt like she was going to explode. Or break down crying. She just needed – she needed someone to talk to. As much as she hated asking for help, she had to face the fact that she couldn't deal with this alone. She needed someone with experience. Someone who understood her.

She needed her mum.

-

River always felt at peace at her parents' house. Something about it made her feel safe and loved and... normal. As normal as their family got, anyway. She liked to come here to unwind, to get her mind off her regular abnormal life. Sometimes the Doctor went along, but usually she went alone. If the Doctor came along he'd just get impatient and lure them all into the TARDIS for an adventure, which was exactly the kind of thing she came here to avoid. She liked just spending time with her parents, having long conversations over tea, watching stupid movies, walking around Leadworth, reminiscing about their youth.

There was tea now, and a tin of what she presumed were biscuits Amy had attempted to bake. The sun had started to set, but it was warm enough that they could still sit in the garden.

“I'm glad you came by,” Amy said, pouring the tea. “It's been a while. I always get a bit worried when I haven't heard from you for more than two months. It's very stressful having a daughter who's a troubleshooting space archaeologist, you know.”

River smiled. “As is having a troubleshooting time traveler for a mother.”

“Fair enough,” Amy laughed. “Still, nice to have you here. What did you want to talk about?”

River froze. “I – nothing, it's --”

Amy rolled her eyes. “I know when something's bothering you. It's like... motherly instinct, or something. There's clearly something you need to get off your chest.”

 _I need to get something out of my body._ “It's nothing, really.”

“River...” Amy sighed, leaning over and taking River's hand in hers. “Honestly, I know I'm shit at talking about like, feelings and stuff, but you can tell me anything. Is it the Doctor? Did he do something stupid again?”

 _He got me fucking pregnant._ “No, no, it's...” River pulled her hand back, running it through her hair. She opened her mouth a few times, trying to find the words. She couldn't say it. If she said it, it would be real. If other people knew, it wouldn't just be a terrible nightmare anymore. It would be real, and she would have to deal with it. And Amy would just tell her to talk to the Doctor, anyway.

“If they hadn't made you sterile, would you have wanted more kids?”

Amy nearly choked on her tea.

“Sorry, sorry,” River said hastily, patting her mother on the back. “I shouldn't have – it's none of my business, anyway.”

“'S fine,” Amy rasped, coughing the last remnants of tea out of her lungs. “Just... don't spring these things on me so suddenly, okay?” She laughed, a bit nervous. “It's not really something I like thinking about, I guess.”

“You don't have to --”

“It's fine, River. You're my daughter, and my best friend. And... well, all those therapists always said opening up and talking was good. Of course, when I did open up they told me what I was saying wasn't real...”

“You can hardly blame them for not believing in magic time traveling police boxes.”

“Yeah well, anyway. I didn't exactly encourage me to talk more. But I should, right? I mean, me and Rory nearly got divorced because I cropped it all up.” She took a sip of her tea, then sighed. “I don't know. I don't know if I would've wanted more kids. I never really... it was always Rory who wanted a family. And it's not like I hate kids, but... I dunno, I guess mostly I just didn't want to think about it yet. Kids was something for later, if ever.”

“And then I happened,” River said softly. Amy glanced at her, frowning.

“I know what you're thinking and you should stop that right now. You're not unwanted, okay?”

“I didn't --”

“No, we didn't plan on it, and yes, it's awful that we never got to raise you and that you were brainwashed and everything... but fuck, River, I'm so proud to be your mum. You're so smart and strong and badass. Always thought so, even when I didn't know who you were. I still can't believe someone as amazing as you came from me.”

River laughed. “Mother, stop it, you're embarrassing me.”

“I mean it!” Amy said, grinning. “I love you, okay? And Rory does too. Maybe we never got to raise you properly, but we got to be your best friends. Maybe Rory would've wanted more kids, and maybe I would have eventually as well, but we've got you. We've got our Melody. I don't think there's much use in dwelling on how it could have gone.”

“My, you've gone all wise in your old age.”

“Shut up! I'm not old!” Amy shrieked, smacking River playfully on the arm. “You're still like hundreds of years older than me.”

“I'm not the one sporting grey hairs, though,” River said, smirking. She felt a lot better already, just goofing around with her mother. It took her mind off the thing growing inside her, at least.

“One grey hair, I found one,” Amy grumbled. “God, here I am trying to be all nice and motherly, and you start making fun of me. You should show your elders some respect.”

“So you admit you're old, then?”

“ _Melody_.”

“Oooh, excellent mum voice there. Starting to sound a bit like _your_ mother.”

Amy groaned. “Please stop, I'm actually starting to feel like an old crone now. Soon I'll be knitting you sweaters and asking you when you're going to give me some grandkids.”

River froze.

Well. So much for taking her mind of things.

Amy must've sensed her discomfort, because she turned serious. “Shit, I'm sorry – it was just a joke, I honestly don't –“

“No, it's fine –” _Please stop talking, please stop talking._

“I mean I assume you and the Doctor can't even – I mean you're different species right? You couldn't even – shit, no, I shouldn't – I shouldn't even talk about it, right?” Amy was rambling now, trying to cover up her mistake, but it was too late. The light mood was gone, replaced with tension, and River had the strongest urge to just get up and run away. Why did it have to be so goddamn complicated? Why did her entire life have to be so goddamn complicated? What the hell had she done to deserve this? _And why was Amy still talking?_

“Mum, I'm pregnant.” She just blurted it out. Loudly, interrupting Amy's stream of apologies. It stopped her mother at least. There was a long pause, in which Amy stared at her, her face white.

And then River broke down. The tears started rolling down her cheeks and wouldn't stop. She started full-on ugly crying, burying her hands in her face. She cursed herself inside her head for being so stupid and weak, and at the same time she cursed herself for still believing she had to be strong all the time, for still clinging on to those bits of training that she knew were unhealthy. She knew she was allowed to feel, she knew it was totally fine to allow yourself to be vulnerable, especially in front of your mother. And yet there was still that part of her, a part that sounded suspiciously like Kovarian, that hated herself for it.

_Never show weakness._

_Hide the damage._

And then Amy's arms were around her, holding her, hugging her tightly.

“Hey, hey... It's okay, I'm here, it's gonna be fine.”

“I can't – I can't keep it,” River said, painfully aware of how small and broken her voice sounded.

“Then don't,” Amy said. She stroked her hair softly, and River felt herself calming down, if only a little bit. She took a long, shuddering breath, and buried her face in Amy's neck, clutching at her like she was a child. She had to remind herself that it was okay to do this, to seek comfort like this. No one was going to punish her. No one was going to yell. No one was going to make her forget. Those days were long gone.

“I don't want it,” she mumbled, her voice muffled. “I hate it. I hate that it's growing inside of me. It shouldn't be there.”

“That's okay. Hey,” Amy said, and she gently turned River's face to her, so she could look her in the eyes, “I support you. Always. You know that, right? And so does Rory – your dad.”

River nodded. Words were a bit difficult right now.

“D'you want me to call him?” Amy asked. “I'm sure they'll let him get off work early.”

“No, that's – it's fine, maybe later, but...” She took another deep breath, wiped some tears away. “Well, he's always liked kids, I don't know if –”

“Oh no, no,” Amy said sternly, “I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong. He'll stand by your decision, no matter what. He likes kids, sure, but he loves you. It's about what makes you happy.”

River sighed, extracting herself from her mother's embrace. She knew, of course she knew Amy and Rory would support her fully. There were doubts, on the surface, there always were – just another byproduct of her messed up childhood – but deep in her heart she knew the Ponds were never going to be the problem. The problem was him.

“It's not just me, though, is it?”

Amy's reassuring look faltered a bit.

“It's not just my child,” River said, aware of the bitterness that was creeping into her voice, too tired to hide it, “it's the Doctor's too.”

“But it's your body, it doesn't matter –”

“He's the last of his kind.”

“I –” Amy stopped, sighed. “Yeah, but... you can't like, kick-start the rebirth of his race or whatever. I mean, a child of yours wouldn't even be a real Time Lord, right?”

“It wouldn't be human.”

“Yeah, well – it doesn't matter, anyway. You don't want it, and he can't force you to have it. He wouldn't.”

“I know – I just...”

“Melody,” Amy said, grabbing River's hands and looking her right in the eyes, “if he makes you do anything you don't want, I will personally track him down and kick his arse so hard, all his previous regenerations will feel it.”

River couldn't help but laugh. “Thanks, mum. I appreciate it, really. And I know... I know he wouldn't do that, it's just... I don't know how to tell him.”

“Yeah... I guess that's a tough one.”

“It's not just that he's the last of his kind, it's... he adores children. He's been a father, a grandfather even. I just... I don't know. Part of me wants to not tell him at all. Spare him the knowledge, you know?”

“Look,” Amy said, “I won't lie, I'm not exactly the best person to take advice from on this topic. I mean, when I found out I was pregnant with you, my first instinct was to hide it as well. And then I told the Doctor, not Rory. And then I thought I wasn't pregnant after all. And then of course I was, but I didn't know it...”

“Not exactly the same situation, no.”

“No, I...” Amy huffed, a little frustrated. “Look, what I'm trying to say is... I get it, but don't make my mistakes. Tell him. He deserves to know about it, at least, even if he doesn't get a say in what happens next. And if it’s difficult to do it in person, maybe just… write a letter, or something?”

River was silent, biting her lip. This was exactly what she thought Amy would say, because it was absolutely the right thing to do. She knew that. She’d known that ever since she saw that positive pregnancy test. Still, a part of her had hoped Amy would’ve told her to hide it. A part of her could’ve justified not telling the Doctor, then, if her mother had said it was alright. Unfortunately, Amy was much more sensible than that.

“No, I’ll… I’ll tell him in person,” River said, sighing. She stood up. “I think I’ll just go now. Get it over with.”

Amy quickly stood up as well. “You could invite him here! Me and Rory can give you emotional support. And, y’know, kick his arse if we need to.”

“I think I’d rather do it privately, if you don’t mind,” River said.

Amy looked a little disappointed, but smiled nonetheless. “Okay, if that’s what you want. Just know we’ll be waiting for you here, when you need us.”

“Thanks, mum.”

Amy hesitated for a second, and then pulled River in for a big hug.

“Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“People always say that,” River mumbled.

“I’m not people. I’m your mother.”

And right there, in her mother’s warm embrace, River allowed herself to believe Amy, just for a moment.

-

She had to be pretty careful to get the right Doctor. He needed to be post-wedding at least. Younger Doctors were a handful on the best days already, she really didn’t want to scare him with a pregnancy as well. It took her a few tries, but eventually she managed to track down what she believed to be an older version. He was, as always, knee-deep in trouble, trying to save a small town on a colony planet from an attack by vicious bird creatures. One of the creatures had snuck up behind him, ready to go in for the kill. With an almost casual flick of her blaster, River took care of the thing. The Doctor spun around at the sound, surprised, but as soon as he saw River, he broke into a wide smile.

“River!” he exclaimed. “Just in time.”

“So it seems,” River said, checking to see if there were any more of the creatures, before holstering her blaster. A small group of villagers emerged from the rubble they’d been hiding behind, curious at this newcomer. The Doctor grabbed River’s hand, pulling her towards them.

“Everyone, this is River Song. She’s my – er, she's...” He stopped himself, leaning in a bit closer to her. “Where are we for you?”

“I've done Area 52, if that's what you're asking,” River said, forcing a smile on her face. Ideally, she'd just drag the Doctor into the TARDIS right now, to talk, but she knew he wasn't going to abandon these people. She'd just have to keep her composure until all of this was sorted. She didn't exactly want to have a breakdown in front of a bunch of strangers.

“Excellent!” the Doctor said, beaming. He turned to the villagers again. “This is my wife, she's very clever and _very_ good with a gun, and she's going to help us with this whole mess. Aren't you, dear?”

“Of course,” River said, trying her very best to look and sound as friendly as possible, which was a bit of a struggle at the moment. “Always here to help.”

“I thought you said you didn't like guns,” a little girl piped up from the back of the group.

“Well – I, no, I don't,” the Doctor stammered, blushing a bit, “but River is a very nice lady, she only uses it for self defense – ” (River's mouth twitched a little at that.) “- and she's very – you know, responsible, so – _anyway_ ,” he said, clearly eager to get off the topic, “we should go back to the town hall. I'll fill River in on the situation on the way, and then we can make a plan. Okay?”

The villagers murmured their agreement, and they all set off towards the center of the town. River held the Doctor back, so they were walking a few feet behind the group, out of earshot.

“Alright, so here's what's happening: these bird creatures lay eggs that take a _really_ long time to hatch –” the Doctor started, but River interrupted him.

“Listen, I didn't come here to help. I wanted to talk to you.”

His face fell. “Oh. About what?”

River shook her head. “Not now. It's... private. But if we could deal with this situation quickly, that'd be nice.”

“Right.” She could see him staring at her intently from the corner of her eye, the gears turning in his head almost audibly. He took out his diary. “River, where exactly are we, for you? Have you done the crash of the Byzantium yet?”

There was a strange tone to his voice that she couldn't quite place at first, and she realised with a start that it was _fear_. Christ, well, she should've realised that 'we need to talk' was probably not the best thing to say, considering that phrase was usually not a good sign. Of course it _genuinely_ wasn't a good sign now, but he didn't need to know that yet. No need to cause him unnecessary anxiety.

She wondered what came after the Byzantium.

“I haven't. Last time time I saw you was the Ritz, 1922,” she said, taking out her own diary.

He relaxed a little. “Haven't done that one yet. How about the Stone Gardens?”

She flipped through the pages, trying to find the right entry. “I've got that one. It was a while ago for me, though.”

“Good, good,” he mumbled, jotting a few things down, as she did the same in her diary. He put the little blue book away again, and hesitated for a moment, before saying, “Listen, if you want to just go to the TARDIS right now, that's okay. I can come back here later...”

“No, no,” River said, “it's fine, honestly. Besides, it's no good leaving a battlefield in the middle of a battle.”

“It's not exactly a battle. Just some annoyed birds.”

He was only saying that because he's worried about her, she knew, not because he really wanted to leave. And it'd be very easy to take him up on the offer, to just go, but considering what she was going to tell him later... It seemed better to give him this, at least. A victory, to put him in a better mood.

Of course they'd have to get that victory first.

“So,” River said, putting on that fake smile again. “What was it you said about their eggs?”

-

In the end, it turned out to be a fairly simple matter. The birds had laid eggs centuries ago, which had been buried under layers of stone, invisible to the humans who had come down from space to colonise the planet a while later. Now the eggs were on the verge of hatching, and the birds had returned to claim them, only to find a bunch of houses built on top of their nest. The eggs were perfectly fine, mind you. There was a network of tunnels underneath the town, through which the eggs could easily be reached, so there was really no need for the birds to get all upset and murderous. They did, anyway. Feral animals simply don't take too kindly to anything coming close to their nests.

There was a certain irony in this situation, River realised. Here were a bunch of creatures so protective of their unborn children that they had been sent into a blind rage, and here she was, desperate to get rid of her... well, she wouldn't call it her _child_ , exactly. That implied a certain amount of emotional attachment that she did not feel towards it. The solution to the bird problem was a lot easier than the solution to her own problems, luckily. All they needed to do was direct the anger of the birds towards the villagers, to something else. They weren't very intelligent animals, mostly driven by instinct, nor was their memory very good, so if they found a new target they would soon forget about the town altogether. And thus River and the Doctor gathered up all the eggs, borrowed a vehicle, and sped off into the desert bordering the town, a flock of seething birds in tow. Once far enough from the town, they simply stopped the vehicle, and used River's vortex manipulator to get out before the birds could peck their eyes out.

“Good thing you came around,” the Doctor said, when they'd reappeared on a sand dune a safe distance away. In the distance, they could just make out the birds violently ripping the vehicle apart. “I wouldn't have been able to do that without a quick getaway. Oh look, they found the eggs.” And indeed, a loud screeching erupted as the birds' talons sliced open the reinforced steel of the trunk, revealing the eggs.

“They ripped through that like it was nothing,” River observed. “I can only imagine what they would do to a human.”

“I don't have to imagine,” the Doctor said, grimacing, “it's not pleasant. But that's a parent's anger for you. Unstoppable and unforgiving.”

 _Well. He would know_. They watched the birds fuss over their eggs for a while. They seemed to be calming down.

“We should go. It doesn't look like they're gonna go back to the town.” River started putting in the coordinates into her vortex manipulator, but the Doctor stopped her.

“Look! The eggs are hatching!” he exclaimed excitedly, pulling a pair of binoculars out of his pockets to get a better view. “At least, I think – yes, they are! Here,” he said, pushing the binoculars into River's hands. She peered through them, and saw that he was right: cracks had started to appear in the stone-like eggs. She thought she could even see a small talon clawing blindly through a hole in one of them. The birds had started screeching even louder, clearly delighted. The sound made River wince, like nails on a chalkboard.

“We should leave them to it, then,” she said, but the Doctor didn't seem to hear her.

“Beautiful, isn't it? They waited all those centuries for their children, and here they finally are.”

“They were going to kill that entire town,” River said. The reverent tone of his voice was starting to grate more than the screeching.

“They're just animals,” the Doctor said. “They just wanted to protect their own.”

“Yes, well, that's very lovely, but we should really go –”

“I mean, it's a miracle really. Their memory span is so short, yet they remembered exactly where their nest was. They might not be intelligent, but they have this connection to their young that's –”

“I'm pregnant. Let's go back to the TARDIS.”

“– really remarkable – _what?_ ” She'd finally gotten his attention, at least. He turned white as a sheet, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the right words, and River knew that if he did, he'd never shut up, so she simply put his hand on the vortex manipulator, and pressed a button.

-

Unfortunately, because River didn't actually know where exactly the Doctor had parked the TARDIS, they reappeared right in the middle of the town hall. The villagers, surprised and relieved that they had made it back, immediately swarmed them, asking questions about the birds, the eggs, everything.

“Everything's fine,” River said quickly, as she took the Doctor's hand and dragged him through the crowd. “The birds won't be back. We have to go now.” The villagers weren't satisfied with that, continuing their barrage of questions, but River simply shoved them aside and strode out of the hall.

“Where did you park her?” she asked once they were outside. A couple of people followed them, shouting at them, but neither River nor the Doctor paid them any mind. In fact, the Doctor didn't seem to hear anything. He seemed to be in some kind of shock.

She gave his hand a firm squeeze. “Doctor, please, I don't want to wander this godforsaken town for any longer than I need to.”

He snapped out of it, at least long enough to mumble, “It's... just around here,” waving vaguely at an alley between two small houses. They walked through it, and River breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the familiar blue on the opposite side of the street.

She opened the doors with a _snap_ , releasing the Doctor's hand and immediately striding over to the console, partly because she wanted to get out of this town as quickly as possible, partly because she just wanted to give her shaking hands something to do. The TARDIS groaned and protested slightly, and River winced a little. She was being too hasty, too sloppy, she knew, pushing the buttons harder than she needed to. She half expected the Doctor to comment on it, but when she finally looked up from the console, she saw that he was still standing by the door.

It was quiet for a few moments, save for the soft humming of the ship. Again, he opened and closed his mouth a few times, and again he couldn't find the words. He walked up the stairs, towards her, and she found herself instinctively backing off a little.

“I don't understand,” he finally said, so soft she barely heard him.

She swallowed the giant lump in her throat, or attempted to. “Well, it's like I said. I'm pregnant.”

“Is it... is it mine?”

She nodded.

“Are you sure?”

“I had tests done. I'm sure.”

He ran a hand through his hair, closed his eyes.

“But we can't – we're not biologically compatible.”

“That's what I thought. Guess we were wrong.”

“But – why now? I mean, we've – we've had...” He waved his hands around, blushing a bit. She couldn't help but smile a bit at the fact that he still couldn't say the word 'sex' even as they were discussing her pregnancy. “...y _ou know_ , we've done _that_ lots of times.”

“I don't understand it either. I guess we are just biologically compatible _enough_ that there was a million-to-one chance of pregnancy, or something.”

He didn't say anything. He just stood there, fidgeting with his hands, avoiding her gaze, his expression unreadable. River, meanwhile, was so tense that it felt like she could snap and have a breakdown any moment. At least he didn't seem immediately thrilled with the idea. That had been her worst fear: that he'd be happy, that he'd be overjoyed at the idea of having a child. That she'd have to break his heart. He at least seemed conflicted.

Or maybe he'd just sensed her own unease.

“Doctor, I'm not keeping it,” she said, because she might as well now. Might as well get it over with, and she wanted to break this horrible silence between them.

He didn't look up, just stared off into space, and River was afraid he hadn't heard her, that she'd have to say it again, but then he looked at her and she knew that she had broken his heart after all.

“River...” he started, but he didn't finish the sentence. She reached for him then, her hands grasping his, because she was desperate for his touch, desperate for a sign that he didn't hate her. He just had to _understand_.

“I can't. I can't have a child. I don't... I don't want it,” she said, her voice unsteady, and she hated that, hated the weakness it betrayed. She wished desperately for her training to kick in, for her emotions to get suppressed, for those god-awful feelings to go away. She thought, for a second, that she could see disgust flicker on his face, thought she could feel him pull away.

He didn't. He pulled her in for a hug.

They never hugged much. They kissed, and they touched, and they slept together, but somehow hugs were not something they did. It felt odd. His warm arms enveloped her and she knew it should be nice, comforting, and yet somehow it just felt wrong. Hugging was something he did with his friends. Maybe it would've been nice in any other circumstance, but right now she didn't need a friend. She needed her husband.

“It's fine,” he said softly, but he could barely keep the hurt out of his voice.

“It's not,” River said, extracting herself from his embrace, but keeping him close, one hand on his chest, the other, almost out of reflex, fixing his bow tie.

“No, really, it's fine. It's your body, your decision.”

“Doctor, please just... Please don't lie to make me feel better. Not now. Just be honest.”

He sighed, closing his eyes. His hands had come to rest on her hips, his fingers right on that small strip of bare skin between her trousers and her shirt, tracing almost imperceptibly small patterns. She thought it might be Gallifreyan, but she wasn't sure. He probably wasn't even aware that he was doing it.

“It's been... so long. Since I had kids. Since Susan,” he said slowly, after a moment of silence. His eyes were still closed, his brow furrowed, and she wondered if she was remembering them, picturing them in his mind. “I... I try not to think about them too often, because it hurts.” He opened his eyes, looking at her. “And sometimes I see other people with their children, and I think... What I wouldn't give to have that again.”

A tear trailed down his cheek. River wiped it away, and he leaned into her touch almost immediately, grabbing her hand, clutching it to his chest, pulling her closer. He inhaled, a deep shuddering breath.

“But I know I can't.”

That surprised her. She opened her mouth to say something, but he shushed her.

“I know I can't because it's too dangerous,” he said, “on so many levels. They took you, River, they stole you away from your parents.”

“That wasn't your fault...” River started, but he cut her off.

“Of course it was. You said so yourself, and you were right. They wanted a Time Lord weapon, and you weren't even a Time Lord, you're human-plus. What would they do with a child that actually carried my genes?”

“You would protect it –”

“I couldn't even protect Amy. I couldn't save you.”

“Okay,” River said, “but they failed. The Silence think you died, they won't come after you anymore.”

“Maybe the Silence won't,” the Doctor said, “but there are hundreds of other species that hate me, and they will find ways to hurt me through the people I love. I can't risk a life just because I like the idea of having a child.”

“But you _do_ want one.”

“Of course I do!” the Doctor said, exasperated. He let go of her, running his hands through his hair, pacing around. “But it doesn't matter what I want. I'm not fit to have children.”

She looked at him, baffled. “That's nonsense, of course you are. You'd be the most loving parent ever. I mean, you've had children before, and you loved them, you just said that.”

“That was on Gallifrey! I wasn't going around getting myself nearly killed on a weekly basis back then. Even Susan – there were so many times she nearly died, so many times she got hurt... It was irresponsible. I shouldn't have taken her with me.”

“She wanted to go with you. She chose to.”

“She was a _child_. I can't bring children on board the TARDIS – or teenagers, for that matter. I mean, the last time – when Adric – he _died_ , River.” He was crying again. River reached out for him, she wanted to console him, to make him change his mind – even if she didn't, really. But she'd brought up all this pain, and she wanted to make it stop.

“That wasn't your fault,” she said softly, putting a hand on his arm. He pulled away.

“He was a teenager, and therefore my responsibility, and he _died._ If you or Amy or Martha or any other adult chooses to go with me – that's different. You're my responsibility, yes, but you are also capable of judging for yourself whether it's worth it to stay or not. But to bring a child into this, a _baby_ even? It's madness.”

“But you wouldn't bring a baby _with_ you in dangerous situations,” River said, because this was getting absurd.

“Wouldn't I? I don't know, River, that's the thing. I could try, I could try to settle down somewhere and raise a child, but you know me. I can't sit still for long, I'd go mad. I'd want to leave, eventually. I'd want to go save planets, I'd want to go to parties and get caught up in political intrigues and accidentally get myself crowned king of some ancient city. And I could not guarantee that child's safety while doing that.”

He stopped pacing, slightly out of breath, eyes dry now.

“Why are you arguing with me, anyway?” he asked, laughing, though it was a hollow laugh devoid of any actual humour. “You know I'm right, I can see it in your face. You don't want the baby, I don't want the baby. Great, we agree. Solved that problem.”

“I didn't want...” River paused, trying to find the right words. “I wanted you to agree, but not like this. I didn't want you to hate yourself.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. Then he moved over to her, took her hands in his once again.

“You didn't do that. These are feelings I've always had. You just brought them to the surface, that's all.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes, felt his mind probing at hers, softly, as if asking permission. She let him in then, gasping softly at that feeling of _him_ washing over her. All his mixed up, confused feelings, emotions, meshing with her own fears and anxieties. But above that, overpowering all those negative things, was a feeling of pure _love_. She relaxed slightly, breathing out a sigh of relief. When she opened her eyes again, he was looking at her, smiling.

“It's not your fault this happened,” he said, bringing up a hand to stroke her face gently. She slipped her arms around his waist, leaning into him.

“I know. I just – I just wish it hadn't. I just wish it was easier.”

“Yeah, me too. But then, when have our lives ever been easy?”

“Exactly. You'd think we'd catch a break every now and then.”

He chuckled softly at that. They stood together like that for a moment, their minds still connected. The Doctor seemed to notice something.

“Something's still bothering you,” he said. “I can feel it.”

River bit her lip. “It's just... you have all these reasons for not having children that are all very... reasonable. And I hadn't even really thought of that. I just... I don't like kids. And I hate the idea of something growing inside me. It makes me want to throw up.”

“That's morning sickness.”

She slapped his arm lightly. “Shut up.”

“Sorry, you're right. Bit too early for jokes.”

“I just feel... I don't know, like I'm broken,” River said softly.

“Hey,” he said, lifting her head gently, so he could look her in the eye, “you're not broken. Those are all perfectly valid reasons for not having kids. Honestly, it would've been a lot easier if I felt the same, but unfortunately I'm a horribly sentimental old man.” He pressed a kiss to her nose, which made her smile.

“Thanks,” she mumbled. “For everything.”

“Don't mention it. Doing the bare minimum here, really.” He turned serious. “D'you want me to help you find a clinic? I think there's some good ones in the 42nd century. And I'll go with you. If you want,” he added hastily.

“I'd like that,” she said. “And I think... I think while I'm at it, I should get myself sterilised. So it doesn't happen again.”

“That seems sensible, yes.” He brushed some stray curls away from her face. “We could get ice cream after.”

“I think I'd rather go to my parents after, if you don't mind.”

“Of course,” he said. “That's much better, actually. That means _they_ can get us ice cream.”

“You know, sometimes being married to you _is_ like having a child.”

“Oi!” he said, straightening his bow tie in mock outrage. “I am very mature.”

“In _some_ aspects, maybe.” She smiled, feeling a lot better already. “C'mon then, I'd like to get it all over with.”

“Of course. The sooner we get it done, the sooner we can have ice cream.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I hate you.”

He pulled her in for a soft, sweet kiss. “No, you don't.”

“No. I really don't.”

 


End file.
